


In the toilet of the Leaky

by marguerite_26



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathroom Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>um... filthy toilet sex?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the toilet of the Leaky

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely betas: [](http://melusinahp.livejournal.com/profile)[**melusinahp**](http://melusinahp.livejournal.com/) , [](http://vaysh11.livejournal.com/profile)[**vaysh11**](http://vaysh11.livejournal.com/) and [](http://faithwood.livejournal.com/profile)[**faithwood**](http://faithwood.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Originally posted on Nov 03, 2010

Harry blinked at the dim candle light of the toilet. Several rounds of pints had numbed his senses just enough to soften the corners of the world around him and blur the harsh grime of the Leaky. He made use of the first urinal, nodding along to the mellowed beat of the music filtering through the walls, and was tucking himself back in when the door opened. He didn’t look over. The crowd was thick, even for a Saturday, and the pub was filled with plenty of strangers who would talk his ear off given even the slightest acknowledgment. He just wanted to get back to his booth and his friends and have another drink or four so his bed wouldn’t feel so empty when he finally fell into it.

He washed his hands, eyes on the soap swirling down the drain. Whoever had entered the loo was still standing by the door and Harry could feel their gaze on the back of his neck. He reached for a towel and a hand caught his elbow. The warm thrum of alcohol turned chill in his veins. He would have pulled his wand, felled the man in a heartbeat, if it hadn’t been for the familiar flash of blond catching his eye as he was dragged into a stall. He let himself be slammed against the door, sliding the bolt shut himself.

The man’s lips were on his, chapped and dry. He tasted of cigarettes and expensive whisky. Harry opened his mouth and slipped his tongue in to capture the bitter tang.

“Having fun tonight, Potter?” Draco asked when they broke apart. His face held an ugly sneer but Harry focused on Draco’s lips, still wet with Harry’s spit. “With Ginny Weasley practically sitting in your lap?”

Harry laughed. “Draco, we’re sharing a booth. With her _boyfriend_.” He wrapped his hands around Draco’s waist and pulled him close enough for their hips to knock and Harry’s half-hard cock to feel the answering bulge in Draco’s trousers. “Missed you.”

Draco nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. “Didn’t look that way, what with the laughing and the cheering and oh, Ron Weasley singing at the top of his lungs to the entire establishment.”

The loud bark of Harry’s laughter boomed in the tiny stall. Draco opened his mouth to say something, likely something _awful_ , so Harry shut him up with another kiss. He flipped them around and pinned Draco to the rickety stall door, crowding him close. His hands buried in Draco’s hair as he worked him out of his foul mood, lips and tongue teasing Draco’s mouth until he moaned.

He loved kissing Draco, could do it for hours. Though, they never had enough time, always rushed, because they were stealing a moment in a cloak room or a lift or yes, sadly, a toilet. Or they were just too desperate to get off. Or both, like tonight. Harry fumbled with Draco’s belt, cursing when he had to break the kiss to find the coordination to pop the button and lower his zip.

“Hurry _up_ ,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s neck, his tongue sliding up and down the muscles, grazing them with his teeth.

Draco’s trousers finally slipped past his hips and, with a tug, his pants followed. Harry wasted no time burying a finger deep in Draco’s arse. Finding Draco loose, he smirked and added a second. “Look at you.” Harry pumped in and out while Draco writhed about his fingers, making filthy sounds. Draco’s teeth closed on his neck, sucking, marking him. “Look at you, still stretched and ready for me.”

They’d fucked that afternoon, a rough tumble in Harry’s office, Draco’s face pressed into the files open across Harry’s desk. But that had been hours ago and Draco hadn’t cleaned, hadn’t showered. Like he was just waiting for the second round and _fuck_ that was so dirty. Harry thrust his fingers in hard, knowing they were getting slicked with his own come. He pulled away to look at Draco. His eyes were closed, squeezed shut.

“Wanted to be ready.” Draco slowly opened his eyes, staring back at Harry with a grin full of mischief. “You never know who might want to bend me over in the toilet of the Leaky.”

Harry growled, twisting his fingers until Draco hissed. “I should fuck you just like this. Is that how you take _strangers_ in a filthy loo? Prepped by my come? Only stretched from my cock?” He pulled out and tore at his zipper. For a second, he debated going through with it. Draco would let him, the prat, and he’d feel it for days. Probably love it. But Harry couldn’t. He found the small tube in his pocket – he hadn’t been without it since this _thing_ had begun three weeks ago – and he coated his cock with lube.

Draco turned. Legs spread and pants at his ankles, he made a pretty picture. His right buttock still held the faint purple of the teeth marks Harry had left last week. But Harry needed something else.

“Face me.” He tugged at Draco’s shoulder until he turned back. “I want you to know it’s me and not some bastard who bought you a drink for a piece of your pretty arse.”

“Romantic.” Draco smirked, eyes bright with anticipation and he quickly stripped off. He placed his trousers, pants and socks on the toilet paper dispenser in a haphazard pile. Then he tucked himself into the corner and gripped the top of the stall door and the panel between the stalls. He tested their strength with a shake and a sharp tug. Nodding his approval, he waited for Harry’s hands to grip his hips, then he hopped up, straddling Harry’s waist.

They’d done this, or something like it, once before in a deserted alley behind Gringotts, but Harry had been sober and Draco had had a small ledge to sit on and take part of his weight. Draco’s hips slipped beneath Harry’s fingers. Harry cursed; it wasn’t going to work. His hands were too slick with lube and sweat and his coordination was not exactly spot on. He whispered a Lightening Charm and watched it shimmer over Draco’s body.

A prickle of desire twisted in his belly as he listened to Draco’s whimper. “Such a magic whore,” he said fondly and let magic pool at his fingertips just to see Draco’s pupils blow wide.

“Fuck me, already,” Draco snarled, voice thick. He dug his heels into Harry’s lower back and pulled him in so that Harry’s cock rubbed along his inner thigh and up to his arse. “Merlin, you’re chatty tonight.”

“Are your hook-ups nice and quiet for you?” Harry angled his hips, trying to line-up without letting go of Draco.

“Usually.” Draco held Harry’s gaze like a challenge.

An unexpected flare of jealousy sliced at Harry’s nerves and he thrust in. Draco’s threw his head back, knocking it against the corner of the stall, biting his lip, face shuttering with every inch Harry gave him. And yes, face to face was _brilliant_ with Draco. He held nothing back. Not when they were like this, with Harry buried balls deep. Draco was all Harry’s then.

Harry pumped slowly out and then back in, letting the tight muscle around him flutter and adjust to his size. At Draco’s nod, he rocked his hips again, smooth, careful strokes. Draco’s nostrils flare with each inhale. His hair already clung, flat and damp to his forehead and they had barely even started. He looked ready to be devoured. Harry snapped his hips, picking up the pace.

Draco’s breath hitched. He scrambled for better purchase, stretching his leg out to balance against the stone wall on the opposite side of the stall. His foot knocked the toilet paper dispenser. The pile of clothes tumbled to the floor. Harry chuckled, knowing Draco would burn them when he got home.

“Shut —” Draco’s gasp caught the rest of the sentence as Harry shifted his angle and found the right spot.

Harry struggled to hit it again, but their position was awkward. Every time he managed to get it right, Draco would jerk his hips and he’d lose it again with the next stroke. He tried everything he could to get Draco to give him control, but Draco was twisting and shifting, fighting him every step of the way. “Hold still, Christ. It’s like trying to fuck a wild cat.”

“Fucked a lot of cats, Potter?” Draco transferred his balance on the far wall, raising his arse another fraction. It helped and on the next thrust, Draco’s head tipped back. “Such a pervert,” he breathed, long pale neck bared for Harry’s teeth if he’d only been close enough.

“It’s a metaphor, you fuckwit.”

“Actually, it’s a simile, you uneducated heathen.” Draco rolled his eyes, then shifted again so that Harry had to rise on tip-toes or risk slipping out.

“Shut the fuck up and hold still.” Harry gripped Draco’s waist and forced his arse lower again. “Or I’ll Apparate us both to my flat and tie you to my bedpost.”

Draco’s eyes darkened at that, his cock jumping between them and Harry wondered why on earth he hadn’t yet taken Draco to his own bed.

Then the door to the loo swung open and the small room momentarily filled with the music and chatter from the pub they had both forgotten about. Harry froze, his eyes snapping to Draco’s. Heart pounding, cock buried deep inside Draco, Harry waited already picturing the _Prophet_ headlines.

“... not so bad. McGonagall’s great about scheduling all my duties during the week. And I have my weekends free to see Ginny.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief as he recognised Neville’s voice. Sweat had begun to pool at this lower back. A trickle slipped down his cleft. His arms ached from holding Draco’s weight and he focused on remembering to breathe.

“You know, Nev...”

_Christ._ Ron was there, too. Harry tightened his grip on Draco’s waist hard enough to bruise and Draco’s arse clenched around his cock. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning.

“... I never thought about Hogwarts professors having lives,” Ron continued.

Neville and Ron both fell silent as they pissed. Draco rolled his eyes and Harry rolled his in reply. Then Draco’s lip twitched. Harry shook his head and narrowed his eyes, knowing that look all too well. He braced himself for it just before Draco rocked his hips. It was only the slightest movement but it made Harry’s head spin with the need to move. He exhaled slowly and tried to think of anything but the tight, hot clutch around his cock, just begging him to slide out and slam back in.

“That’s great,” Ron said, turning on the faucet. “She seems happy.”

“It’s really going well.” Neville must have had a goofy smile on his face. Harry could hear it in his voice. Draco’s tongue darted out and wet his bottom lip and Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut. “And I think Harry’s happier too, to be honest.”

They were standing just on the other side of the door, not a foot away. If one of them looked over, looked in the mirror, they’d surely see Draco’s white knuckles peeking over the top. Harry only hoped they were drunk enough to be oblivious.

Ron cleared his throat. “Something’s different there. With Harry.”

Neville’s voice was further away now; he was already standing at the door. “Ginny thinks he’s found someone.”

Draco raised his eyebrow and Harry felt his cheeks heat – which was ridiculous, really, given their situation. He swallowed past his parched throat, praying that his friends wouldn’t choose that moment to have a heart-to-heart in the Leaky Cauldron’s toilet.

Ron snorted. “Ginny has a lot of theories about Harry.” The door opened, flooding the room with noise and drowning out the rest of the conversation. The bathroom fell silent a moment later.

“Thank Merlin.” Draco huffed and sagged against the stall door.

Harry wasted no time setting a brutal, desperate pace. Draco egged him on with every thrust, his body begged for more, for harder. And he finally, gave Harry the control he needed. Harry heard water running at some point, so someone might have come in, or stray sparks of magic might have busted a pipe. It wouldn’t be the first time – last week he’d shattered a mirror in the lift of the Ministry as he came down Draco’s throat. Harry was beyond caring either way.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry shouted as Draco squeezed around him. “You feel brilliant.” He was getting close, could feel the rising heat in his lower back.

“Keep it down, Potter,” Draco panted between thrusts. “Or you’ll get half the bar in here, thinking I’m killing you.” He angled his hips up, taking more weight onto his arms and curling his back in a way that made Harry’s eyes cross. “Don’t want to spill your precious secret.”

Harry thrust in again, and must have hit Draco just right because the git’s mouth fell open. Then Draco’s words filtered into his brain. “My precious secret? What is that supposed to mean?” Why did Draco pick fights at times like this? Fuck.

“You haven’t told your friends, have you?” If Draco had been aiming to keep his tone light, he’d missed the mark by half a Quidditch pitch.

“Neither have you,” Harry shot back, timing his parry with a brutal snap of his hips.

“Because _you_ want this to be a secret.” Draco broke eye contact and it was stupid, utterly ridiculous to be having this conversation teetering on the edge of orgasm.

“I’ve never said that,” Harry whispered, suddenly breathless.

He tried to think back to those first times. The risk of being discovered had thrilled him, added to the rush of those heated moments. Of course they hadn’t wanted to be caught then, in Kingsley’s office, or in the deserted aisle in the back of Flourish and Blotts. But there was a difference between getting caught quite literally with your pants down and admitting to your friends that you regularly get off with your school rival. Somewhere along the way the line between the two had become blurred, even though Harry had never meant them to.

He slowed the pace and Draco growled in complaint, shifting so that he could wrap his legs around Harry’s waist and pull him in. Harry didn’t comply. “I’m not ashamed of this,” he said.

Draco stared at the pile of clothes on the floor, lips pressed tight. With a sigh, Harry decided to let it drop. They were both too far gone to start making any sense now. A drip of sweat trickled down Draco’s temple and Harry wished he was near enough to flick his tongue at it, make Draco lean into the touch. He closed his eyes, let himself get lost in the rhythm again. A heavy base pounded from the pub, mixing with the slap of flesh, the creak of the stall that might just crumble under the strain, and the ragged drag of Draco’s breathing. He felt the stirring in his balls and he had time for another thrust before he cried out, pressing himself in deep as his body shuddered through his orgasm. Draco held still for him, clutching him tight as Harry rode through the aftershocks.

Harry pulled out slowly, loving the tiny groan that escaped Draco's mouth at the loss and Draco’s mortified grimace at the sound.

Harry wrapped a fist around Draco's hard cock and held Draco's stare as he slid to the floor. He licked the glistening slit, then opened his mouth wide in invitation. Draco clutched his hair and slid in, tilting Harry's head so that he could knock straight to the back of Harry's throat. Harry's eyes watered as he struggled to breathe, fighting the instinctive panic. Draco smirked and pulled out a fraction, and Harry blinked his thanks. Draco pumped a couple times, long and slow before giving over to the rhythm. Harry relaxed his throat, letting Draco fuck his mouth for all it was worth, handing Draco the control they tossed back and forth like banter. Draco's fist tightened at Harry's scalp and he plunged in one last time. With a strangled cry that might have been _Harry_ , he came down Harry’s throat.

Harry swallowed all he could before choking and pulling back. He stood, wincing at the ache in his knees from the cold stone. Draco’s bottom lip was swollen and gorgeous from being bitten while they’d fucked and Harry couldn't resist running his thumb across it, and kissing it, slow and sweet. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he whispered.

Draco pushed him away as if he'd been slapped. “Filthy loo sex with a former Death Eater? I know exactly what this is, Potter. Get over yourself.”

“That’s not—“ Harry's voice cracked, throat raw from the abuse it had just taken. The frustration of having failed to get across what he meant, what Draco meant to him, fizzled the last of his afterglow.

Draco turned to hide whatever might have been laid bare on his face. “Right. Yeah,” he said finally, his low voice ringing with doubt.

Harry shook his head and hiked up his pants. He waited for Draco to finish dressing, the tension thick in the air, but Harry was at a loss for what else to say. As they walked out of the stall Harry caught his reflection in the mirror – dishevelled hair, wrinkled shirt, flushed face and a hickey on his neck the size of a snitch. He smirked. No, he felt no shame at all.

Beside him, Draco raised his wand to perform the various well-practised spells to wipe away all the evidence of their tryst. Harry grabbed his wrist. He caught Draco’s eyes in the mirror and shook his head. “Not this time."

Draco looked them both up and down, brow furrowed. Harry watched as Draco’s face softened in understanding, finally. There’d be questions to endure, knowing looks from Ginny and maybe shocked silence from Ron, and very possibly a photo on the front page of the _Prophet_ in the morning, but they’d weather it.

Harry raised an eyebrow, tentative. “Let me buy your pretty arse a drink?” And he let Draco read what he needed from his open, unguarded expression.

Draco’s grinned, brightening the dingy room. “If you play your cards right, Potter, I might even let you take me home tonight.”

“I’m counting on it.” Harry swung an arm around Draco’s shoulder. Together they walked through the door and into the bustling crowd.

~fin~  


**Author's Note:**

> [Original livejournal post](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/250765.html)


End file.
